EXTRATERRESTRIAL
by Rinusagitora
Summary: Oneshot. Extraterrestrial!AU. HitsuKarin, minor KiraHina & Momo Hinamori. Rated T for death, mentioned racism, and mentioned body desecration. /It was strange how much emotion they evoked in such a short period of time./


A/N: HitsuKarin Secret Santa gift for back-in-a-bit on tumblr

* * *

" _Toushirou, are you sure you'll be alright on your own?_ " His sister said over the receiver, and he heaved a sighed.

"Yes, I'll be fine. Go enjoy your honeymoon, for Heaven's sake. You deserve it." Even if he didn't like her husband Izuru, he silently added. He was better than Sousuke was at least, never laid a finger on her with malicious intent, and he _sincerely_ hoped Izuru hadn't coerced his sister into anything risqué before he proposed.

" _You're home alone though, what if there's an emergency?_ "

"Momo, I'll be _fine._ Honest. You and Izuru have wanted to go to the Caribbean for your honeymoon for your _entire_ engagement– which was six and a half years, I might add– and I'm not about to ruin that. Even if I don't like Izuru. Which I don't because you're _way_ too good for him—"

" _Toushirou, stay on topic._ " She scolded him, and he cleared his throat.

"Fine, whatever. Besides, you'll be home in like four days, right? I can manage. I've even set an alarm so I don't forget to take my medication." He reassured her.

" _Alright,_ " Momo sighed then, and he heard flick her index nail on her thumb's. Why she insisted to have her nails manicured if they bothered her so much was no less than beyond him. " _I love you, Toushirou. Call the hotel if you need anything. I mean it, you're more important than some trip that Izuru and I could go on again._ "

"I will, now go enjoy your honeymoon. And _please_ make sure to wear protection."

He hung up then, tossed his phone on the couch cushion and flipped on the television, and he cracked open a bottle of coke before him and downed half of it. He wondered if he should've called called up Yukio; it was a little lonely, he'd never been alone since he moved off base and in with Momo and Izuru, for a little over four years then. With three residents– formerly there were four, but Rangiku moved out three years ago when she married. How her priggish wife ever put up with a party-animal like her was beyond him–, one of which he worked on base with and the other worked from home, he was hardly ever alone. Which was a good thing, when he lived on the base, he spiralled into depression so bad he may as well have been comatose.

But he was a man then, he thought with a frown, and that was years ago. His medication stabilized him, and he was decently mature enough that he could've taken care of himself for half a week. Plus he was sure Yukio told him he would be out with his boyfriend that night and he didn't want to disrupt them. He would've been just fine.

He'd fallen asleep near midnight to the drone of Saturday Night Live, and woke up to a high-pitched whirr outside. In his startlement, he flew to his feet and pulled on a pair of boots, and he ran outside towards its source.

There was a bright halo above the church a few blocks away, fluctuated in beams of white comprised of vibrant magenta and cyan and yellow. He lifted his hand to shade his eyes and squinted at it as he rounded onto the property, and he was nearly blown back as the the gusts of wind it created swirled around the parking lot, and he watched as they drifted down to the ground.

It was hypnotic, how they glowed; a silver sheen that reflected the light of the waxing moon across their paper-white skin, and he quickly realized it was a metallic leotard and a large poncho. The storm they created blew their deep black hair over their face like the shadowy tendrils of a monster, but still he caught glimpses of vibrant blue eyes through their locks, and they seemed to pin him in place, pierced his very being.

Their halo disappeared and they crumpled to the ground, and he ran and caught them before their head hit the concrete. He heard sirens then, and he cussed as he hauled their arms over his shoulders. They were light as a feather, he noted, barely weighed a thing even though they were a head taller than he was.

Somehow, he dragged the mysterious being back to his house, laid them across the couch, and he scratched behind his neck as he stared down at them. He wasn't sure he should've left them alone, hell he wasn't even sure what to _do_. Weird light-up being that fell from the sky, he wasn't sure anybody would've known what he should've done.

He decided to think about it with some sleep under his belt. He threw a blanket over the being– he vaguely wondered if they were an angel and he laughed at his preposterous thought– and headed for his own room, collapsed on his mattress and curled up in his comforter before he fell asleep.

* * *

He awoke to his alarm, and he groaned as he sat up to turn it off. He shuffled to the bathroom found his medication in the cabinet, and he swallowed them down with a glass of water. He brushed his teeth and combed his hair in the bathroom, and he quickly dressed in his room. He was almost relieved to see the being still on the couch, their brows furrowed as they watched the television with rapt attention.

"Human broadcast strange." They chirped, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. It hadn't been very long, nine hours at most, and they already spoke English, albeit broken. His high school French was shit, he couldn't have constructed a sentence even back then, and he took it for four years. Their progress was spectacular. "Beast no speak."

He glanced at the television and almost smiled. "That's because it's Teletubbies. For some reason, they don't talk." He picked the remote off the stand and changed the channel, flipped through them until he found something at least halfway decent– the Discovery Channel.

They didn't _seem_ dangerous, he thought as he watched them from the corner of his vision, not while focused so intently on the television, as if Andrew Zimmerman no less than spoke the truths of the universe.

"My name Karin. I no girl or man, I Quincy."

"I-I'm Toushirou," he introduced himself. "What's Quincy?"

"My people. Your people woman and man, mine Quincy."

"Well, technically," he said as he sat next to them and draped his arm over the back of the couch and tucked his foot under his knee. "Those are genders, girl and boy, and in contemporary social justice there are a lot more. My species are the human race." He explained.

"The human race…" they iterated. "So equivalent is the Quince race?"

"I-I suppose. What _are_ the Quincy even?"

"My home planet." They replied

He frowned then. "Ah."

"Are humans soldiers like Quincy?"

"No, there are civilians. I just got into the military to pay for college, and it turns out I like it more than I should probably so I stayed." He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

They hummed shortly. "We're all soldiers. I'm high-ranking, Sternritter, under the King's order himself and always at battle. But small population like civilian."

His eyes narrowed at them in his sudden suspicion. "This isn't the front-line, is it?"

"No, I deserted. I'm not soldier anymore." They frowned as they looked down in their lap, and their eyelids drooped in what he would've called shame, and they slumped in their melancholy. He decided not to ask.

His stomach growled then, and he frowned. "Excuse me, I have to get something to eat." He pushed himself to his feet, shook out his numb foot as he stumbled, and reminded himself to get his ass to the store for some coffee grounds.

"Can I have some?" Karin asked, spun to their feet and padded over to the kitchen with him.

"Breakfast? Sure, I don't see why not." He shrugged as he set the kettle over the burner. "Would you like some coffee too?"

"What's coffee?" They inquired as he pulled a pan from the cabinet above the sink.

"It's a caffeinated beverage. Keeps you awake." He explained as he retrieved a half-empty pack of bacon from the fridge. "It's bitter as hell unless there's sugar and cream in it. Want to try some?"

Karin hummed before they nodded. "But what's bitter?"

"It's… I don't really know how to explain it, honestly. It's a concept, you'd have to experience it to understand it."

He flipped on the radio then, and he dropped several strips of bacon onto the flat of the pan, and they sizzled as he prepared two cups of coffee. They loomed over him, watched as he mixed grounds with hot water. "Do you want some pancakes too?"

"Yes," They blew on their coffee before, to his alarm, they swallowed in large gulps. "It reminds me of a drink from my homeland. It would mean 'warm pebble juice' in English. It's made from this river rock that's more like flora, and it's boiled until it's soft enough to pull open, and the material in it will have melted. It's drank by practically everyone to give them energy."

"That's similar to coffee, really. Except without the pull-apart plant rocks." He furrowed his brow then. It was possible for coffee beans to be construed as plant rocks, he supposed. Perhaps Quincy didn't have a word similar to 'bean'.

They hummed then, sat against the cupboards next to the stove.

"What's Quince like?" He inquired, and he bit his tongue as he recalled her reaction from earlier. Stupid question, he thought.

"It's a small planet. Our population is only fifty-eight thousand, but it's beautiful. We have a towering, clean city in which all our population resides, and the parks are no less than breath-taking. Our wildlife is mostly carnivorous, including the plant life, but it makes up only two percent of our planet, naught but a small patch in the city."

"It's a monarchy, and its king is Juha Bach, a militaristically talented individual. They've required all citizens to serve at least twenty years in the military, and as a noble myself I had to serve my entire life, but I didn't mind until recently. It has four levels; the ruler, or as we call it Yhwach, Sternritter under them such as myself, the Jagdarmee, and the Soldat at the bottom."

"We're at war against the Huecan, so there's a lot of prejudice against them currently. We enslave prisoners of war in work camps or as servants in homes of the wealthy, and criminals are executed on a daily basis in the square." He watched as they smiled wryly. "Honestly, Quince is such a corrupt planet. It's people..." Karin's eyes drooped as he poured pancake batter onto another pan, and it felt as if his aorta was tourniqueted.

"Karin, you don't have to say anymore if you don't want to. It was insensitive of me to ask, and I apologize. Quince is a bad place, and that's all I need to know."

There was silence between them as he plated pancakes and bacon for them, and they leaned against his leg. "Thank you," they whispered.

He sat on the tile next to them, passed them their breakfast plate before he retrieved his coffee off the counter.

"Do you have a family?" They inquired.

He nodded. "Yeah, I have an older sister whom may as well be my best friend and her husband, my brother-in-law, and I guess Yukio counts as a brother. My parents died when I was very young, so I never knew them and my sister and I were raised by our grandmother. She died about a year and a half ago from a heart attack, bless her soul."

"What's a soul?" She inquired.

"It's… a concept of being, I suppose. The essence of life is the best I can describe it." He explained, and they nodded.

"I see." They frowned, and they pulled a strip of bacon in half and popped it on their mouth. "I miss my family on Quince. I had two older siblings, and the king was our guardian by adoption. The oldest, Ichigo, was like our protector for my twin and I, and my twin was our mother after they died. Though, since my desertion, I suppose they've all disowned me. Which is a good thing, I don't wish to stand by the king of a corrupt empire, and I doubt they want a heretic in the family. And I suppose it would be troublesome if news got out that a Sternritter betrayed the empire."

He nodded. But if Quince was as corrupt as they hinted, he hoped the royal disowned Karin. Somebody whom admitted to their mistakes hardly deserved family who stubbornly stuck to harmful beliefs.

He stood then, stretched and downed the rest of his coffee before he dumped his mug in the sink. "Forgive me for asking, Karin, and I honestly don't mind you here, but if you stay here on my planet you _will_ be discovered at some point in time, and honestly, my government may see you as a weapon from one of our enemies. Do you have some sort of plan?" He inquired, sincerely worried– the Quincy seemed genuine and he had nothing against them, so he may as well be concerned.

They lowered their fork and shook their head. "No, I don't. I've been planet hopping really, the only reason I stopped was that I needed to rest my Vollständig for a few days."

"Vollständig?"

"It's this." They lifted their shroud. "It's connected to my brain via wires and it allows me to fly through any sort of conditions, including vacuums, and it's also connected to this band on my arm that allows me to manifest my weapon. It's given to soldiers with a tracking device, but you needn't worry, I'm technologically inclined so I've disabled the tracking options for myself. It takes two days to recharge, approximately. If I use it sometime from now to then, it would be three."

He could've hid her for three days, he thought, if she left Monday. He was off on the weekends anyway, and had plenty of sick days accumulated.

They watched television, Karin asked about the content on occasion if there was something they didn't understand and he patiently explained, and their curiosity touched him. It was so authentic he couldn't not have found it at least cute.

He sighed around four in the afternoon. "Listen, I need to stop by the market and pick up something for dinner, and I'll probably swing by my friend's house, but I'll be back soon. Promise to stay here?"

"I may be extraterrestrial, Toushirou, but I'm by no means a fool. I will behave myself as a guest in a charitable man's home." They assured him with a short bow, and he smiled at their sincerity. They were absolutely adorable, he thought.

He pulled on a pair of sandals he left by the door and his keys off the end table, and after he locked the door he climbed into his car and drove for Yukio's on the other end of the base. He knocked thrice, and he waited a few minutes before the door opened to a shirtless, dishevelled blond with a crunched cigarette between his teeth.

"Those'll kill you, you know." He snorted.

"Not if Jinta bangs my brains out first." Yukio retorted with a faint smirk.

"Thanks for that mental image." He rolled his eyes. "How're you doing though?"

"Worst that's happened has been that I ran out of cigarettes last night at like… midnight and couldn't get anymore until six in the morning." Yukio replied, folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "I've been clean for almost a year now, man, you don't have to keep checking up on me."

"I'm aware, but I'm as bad as Momo is so I'm _always_ worried." He snorted.

"Gee, love the trust we've built up. And no, Toushirou, don't try to say that it's not that you don't trust me, because it is. You _know_ I'd go to you if I was having a bad day or something." Yukio sighed then. "C'mon, man. This is demeaning. I know you don't mean it like that, but I've come so far since last year and it's insulting when you come here checking up on me."

His chest quietly swelled then. It stung, he thought, but Yukio was right. His concern was more hurtful than helpful it seemed, even if it comforted himself that his friend wasn't in the middle of a seizure on the floor because of a cocaine overdose. And Yukio _had_ gotten better since then, really the only remnants of his addiction was that he smoked to replace the coke.

"Right, I'll just um…"

"Look, I still love you man, but have some respect. I'll come over just to chill for a few hours tomorrow, just the two of us."

His heart leapt into his throat in his alarm, and he nearly choked. "H-honestly, it's a bad time right now." He blurted out, and Yukio raised brow. "Look, I'm sure you understand. I have a… _special_ individual over right now."

It was hardly even a fib, he thought. He was curious about Karin, and it wasn't like they weren't attractive in their own way. He'd confessed any day that those cyan eyes were no less than gorgeous, such a vibrant color wasn't common on Earth, if it at all existed.

Yukio grinned widely, it was more of a sneer, and he pulled him into a hug. "Finally, my best friend's gonna get his ass _laid!_ " His friend whistled, and he awkwardly pat the blond's back.

"As nice as that is babe, get your ass back here so I can fuck it!" He heard from the back room, and he bristled as he and his friend separated.

"Jinta's blunt." Yukio grinned sheepishly. "Later dude, have fun with your _special individual._ "

"Y-yeah, same to you." He cleared his throat, and he ran back to his car, ignored the blush that crept up his neck.

If it had just been himself, he would've just had a microwave dinner and pop, but it wasn't just himself and his sister taught him better than to feed guests, extraterrestrial or otherwise, piles of processed 'dog shit'. He'd make Karin a nice dinner, even if his intentions were far from romantic– or sexual for that matter– as Yukio thought they were. He still remembered some of what his grandmother taught him from adolescence, he wasn't completely useless in the kitchen like Yukio was.

He was home again an hour later, and Karin leaped onto him as soon as he opened the door, buried their face into his chest and sobbed as he toppled over, and he stared in astonishment at them as they wrapped their arms around him."K-Karin?" He stammered, and they held him tight against them as they wept, pulled him as close as they possibly could've and trembled, and he wrapped his arm around their shoulders. "Karin, what's wrong?"

"There was something awful on the television. Th-there was one of those men, a-and it said he was charged with desecrating graves!"

"Was it a show or the news?"

"The monitor said news in the corner."

He sat up, carefully readjusted the groceries and shut the door, and he pulled them over him and pet their hair as they sobbed. "There are creeps like that out there, unfortunately. He's on his way to jail though, so I doubt he'll be doing it again."

"No, you don't understand. He had _sex_ with the bodies."

His stomach churned, and he held them tight and cleared his throat. "Yes, there are people like that. But he was caught so–"

"No matter where I go, I'm encountered with the same thing over and over! Three planets now, and there have been individuals that are horrible! I left Quince to get away from that, but it _follows me_!"

"I… I don't understand." He responded.

"Th-there was a coroner on Quince, and they were given the body of an executed heretic for an autopsy, a-and I went to retrieve the report from the since my secretary was ill, a-and I found them on top of the corpse a-and they- they were—" they sobbed then, and he reflexively laid kisses over their scalp.

"It's okay, I understand." He croaked.

"And to make it worse, when I reported it, absolutely nothing was done! They're still incumbent, and they're still—" they sobbed louder, fisted his shirt and curled up against him. "I can't go back to that, I can't be a part of such an evil empire, and I don't want to be around such again!"

He wasn't sure what he could've done for them. He wanted to help, wanted to tell them that it would've been alright, but it wouldn't have done any good. Karin had stared into the proverbial abyss and it had stared back, and there was no way to remedy that. No, it had been years then since Izuru had returned from Iraq, and after a few years of therapy to treat his PTSD he'd gotten _much_ better, but he still didn't like firecrackers and war movies upset him. Karin, he was sure, never would've been the same again.

And it disgusted him how little he was able to help them, he thought, absolutely pathetic. He had hardly grown from when Momo, his _dearest_ sister, had been trapped in her toxic marriage with Sousuke and he couldn't do shit. It had been Izuru that convinced her to divorce him. It had been Izuru that convinced her to testify against him. It had been Izuru that was able to comfort her in the late nights. It had been Izuru that helped her to her feet after her world had been stolen and her self-esteem destroyed. All he did was blubber like an idiot the handful of times she sought comfort in him. And he was just as useless then.

"I… I have to put away the groceries. I just need a moment, Karin, and I promise–"

Promise what, he thought. That he'd comfort them? He hadn't the slightest idea where to start, and he would've cried with them if _somebody_ didn't have to be the strong one.

He laid next to the mournful extraterrestrial as they wailed, forgot the groceries and pulled them close and rocked them. He offered no words, not a thing he could've said would've eased the pain he was sure they experienced. Karin held onto him like he was their anchor, and he wasn't hungry even after she calmed down after two and a half hours, sickened by his own incompetence.

"I'm very tired. Is there someplace I can rest?" They inquired, and he pulled them to their feet.

"You can use my bed. I'll just sleep on the couch. Just…" His voice faltered then, and he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. Please rest."

Karin disappeared down the hallway then, and he put away the groceries. He fell onto the couch and flipped off the television, and he lay down and let his eyelids droop shut, and tried to ignore the hollow pit in his stomach.

* * *

He didn't wake up refreshed, hardly felt rested at all. He was more concerned than anything, and it ate at him like termites with lumber. He went through his morning routine, though he didn't even consider breakfast. He was still nauseated.

He checked up on Karin, and they were wrapped in his blankets in the dark, face buried in his pillows and laid so still he worried that they were dead for a moment. It was awful how destroyed they were after they saw the news report, he thought. He couldn't have imagined all they saw on Quince, the horror they experienced, if they were left so emotionally crippled.

He strode in and sat next to them, rest his back against the headboard and crossed his ankles on the mattress, and he combed his fingers through Karin's hair. "It's not all bad, I promise." He murmured. "It… starts out _awful._ And everything is awful, you have _nothing_. But it gets better. You find people that care, and you find good things about life. The world itself doesn't change, but you recognize the good things near you and appreciate them for what they are."

"Karin, I can't say I can comprehend everything you've experienced on and off Quince, but I swear that not everything in the universe is so dark."

They were still for a moment before they whimpered, and they placed their head on his thighs. He was silent again as they so quietly wept, merely sat with them and gave his company just as Momo did when he was so depressed he was nearly comatose. Words, he thought, never soothed the sort of sadness that penetrated one's very being. The best he could've done was just stay with them.

Karin eventually asked in the late afternoon if he could've made them something to eat– they were no less than famished he was sure and he hadn't had anything to eat that day either– and he coerced them to come with him. And they did, sat by him on the floor as he made omelets. They ate on the couch in silence, and they curled up beside him and lay their cheek on his shoulder, and they were like that for hours more, until the sun set over the horizon and submerged them in darkness with naught but the light from the television that illuminated them.

There was a loud _boom_ then _,_ echoed through the area and rattled everything light or loose, and the two of them cried out in alarm.

"What the fuck, planes aren't supposed to fly like that in residential areas!" He cussed, ran for the door, and then Karin pulled him back inside by his collar and clasped a hand over his mouth, and he shivered as he caught their cold, blue-green gaze.

"I can feel other Quince." They hissed. "Stay here,"

"Karin," he uttered, and his eyes widened. "Karin, they'll kill you!"

They smiled down at him, and it felt too much like a goodbye for it to comfort him. "Then I'll just have to kill them first, won't I?"

They disappeared then, as swift and powerful as a gust of wind, sent the papers on the counter aflutter and jarred the cupboards, and after a stunned moment of stillness, he ran outside.

Despite the darkness, he saw three figures clearly, as if they were angels or stars. Halos of white surrounded them as they levitated feet above the ground with a soft whirr, the two Karin faced off with feet taller than her and bows at the ready.

He watched as Karin's shoulders slumped, shouted so sadly at the one on the left, at the masculine being with orange hair and eyes the same color as Karin's, and they were teary-eyed as they looked at each other. The Quincy they shouted at uttered low, harsh words, bitter as acid, and he watched as Karin straightened themselves and readied their own weapon.

The three Quincy disappeared then, left shockwaves in their wake. They streaked the sky with light and blinded the stars– they would've put the sun's light to shame. There was a crash with black smoke and orange roots in the city, and it terrified him– rooted him to the ground like he was little more than a tree. He wasn't sure if it were Karin or one of the other Quincy that crashed, but as he saw tails of their flight, zigzags and triangles that chased each other through the night sky and felt their sonic booms as they reverberated through the air, he was relieved. He was sure the Quincy ordered to collect Karin wouldn't have fought amongst themselves, so Karin was still bound to be alive.

The press, he thought, would have a field day, and he wished the military luck when they had to cover it up.

He was nearly blown off his feet then, but was held up with an arm across his shoulders. There was a bright strip across his vision, and after a moment, he realized the Quincy Karin had addressed held an arrow across his throat. Karin landed in the yard then, shrieked desperately, fell to their knees and deactivated their bow. He watched as they sobbed, watched as Karin and the Quincy shouted back and forth, and Karin _sobbed_ as they pleaded. He wished he knew what they said, he thought, he would've liked a say in his future.

They flew to their feet and fell again to their knees in front of him and threw their arms around him, and he hugged their shoulders. "Listen, don't change your expression one bit. My sibling cannot understand us at this moment. He will kill me after I finish, but I can't allow that. I just need to know if you trust me. Don't respond, but if you do, close your eyes. If you so choose, it is imperative you do not open them until I say so." Their voice trembled, and it broke his heart how desperate they were.

He shut his eyes.

The dull whirr gradually became louder and louder, until it was so loud it burst his eardrums and left all a muffled rumble. Light so bright he was sure the sun was right before him filtered through his lids and his eyes watered, and he clapped his palms over his sockets before his eyes were cooked. It felt like his ribs had caved in from the sudden amounts of pressure, his breath knocked from him and his organs compressed. Time, oddly enough, had disappeared, his limbo felt like both an eternity and a split second.

He crumpled to a pile on the ground with his support lost, gulped in air like he'd nearly drowned, and he touched his ears with his eyes still clamped shut. His hearing was undamaged, it seemed, he heard the rustle of the grass as he raked his fingers through it, and he heard the start of torrential rain as it beat down around him.

"Toushirou, you can open your eyes." He heard Karin, and they lifted him up to his feet and he opened his eyes. They stood before him, smiled down at him, and he wasn't sure if it was to hide the grief in their eyes or if it was to reassure him, as if he'd been the one who killed his own kin– _him,_ who didn't hurt for anybody else but them then. Either way, their hurt was infectious.

"Let's get you inside." He said as he stood, and he looped his arm around their hips and they wobbled inside together. He didn't ask what they did to their sibling, didn't want to exacerbate the matter, but if the scorch mark on the lawn where they formerly stood was any indication, they likely evaporated. He reminded himself to mow in the morning.

He lead them to the bathroom, helped them strip out of their clothes– and they were _hot,_ he noted, like the exhaust pipes to Izuru's bike after he and Momo went out on a ride, and their flesh was borderline febrile. They even blistered over their shoulders– and they stepped into the tub before they curled up into a ball. He pulled his drenched shirt off and threw it over the towel rack, and he turned on the cool water for the shower. Karin pressed their palms to their eyes then and sobbed, and their spine dug into his chest as he held them, and they mumbled in their mother tongue. He toweled them off as soon as their clothes weren't as hot as the oven, and he lead them to his room and laid with them until they both fell asleep.

* * *

He woke first. It was early, the sun hadn't even risen, but he didn't want to go back to sleep. He went through his morning routine; took his meds, showered, brushed his hair and teeth, mowed the lawn before made himself breakfast–

"I have to leave."

He looked up from his hash browns then, blinked at Karin behind him. Their arms were folded in front of their chest, and they stared at the tile with hooded eyes, and they were tearful, he saw, and his breath hitched. "I can't stay here on Earth. I'll stand out, and other Quincy are coming since Ichigo's and Jugram's tracking devices were destroyed. I have to leave you."

They had to leave _him,_ he thought. They specified him, and it somehow felt like a breakup.

His chest seemed to collapse on itself then, and his tongue stuck to his palette. He knew it was best they left, he thought, safest especially for them, but it still stung like a bitch. Their company somehow filled a hole in his stomach he didn't even know existed until then.

"Be safe." He finally breathed. "I'll… I'll…" his voice caught and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd miss them, he'd never forget them, he didn't want them to leave—

He cleared his throat then. "You're always welcome here. Please, if you ever—" he choked then, and he inhaled. "Please come see me again."

Their lips upturned – he didn't _dare_ call it a smile, not when they were so miserable–, and they pivoted on the ball of their foot and disappeared out the door, the boom of their flight left in their wake.

* * *

He returned to work as if nothing had happened. He relocated soldier after soldier until their faces and names blurred together like smudged paint. He pretended nothing was wrong, as if he'd never met Karin, and when asked, he just told Yukio that his date didn't pan out.

Momo and Izuru eventually returned from their honeymoon, and weeks later he was relocated to Nevada. There, all alone, he stuffed the hollow pit in his gut with strict routine and buried his emotions under familiar apathy. By then, he could at least manage his depression.

Years passed like dust storms, and when he was thirty-four he was again relocated to Arkansas. He'd just finished his shift and walked to his car when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Before you return to your barracks, Toushirou–"

He slowly turned, and his eyes nearly popped out of his orbitals as his heart soared.

"How about you take me to dinner? I hear it's customary for a man to do that here on Earth."

K-Karin!" He cried out, dropped his suitcase threw his arms around them before he quickly pushed away, and he stammered lamely as he looked them up and down. They were more human-like; shorter, grey-eyed, tanned skin, clad in jeans and a t-shirt and _well-endowed_. "How– what– when– what–," He stammered, looked them up and down and ran his hands down their sides.

"There's this being in the galaxy that grants wishes, and I wished to stay with you." They explained with a short wink, and he dismissed how vague it was, simply too overjoyed to see them again.

"Okay, but are you safe here? What about the Quincy hunting you?"

"Quince thinks I'm dead. Frankly, the less you know about it the better. Now, about dinner–"

"But _Karin,_ you haven't explained–"

They pressed a slender finger to his lips, silenced him and grinned. "Dinner first, Toushirou."

He sighed, and he skirted around his car with them opened the passenger door.


End file.
